


a million miles away

by tenmilliontrinkets



Series: Kyouhaba Week 2015 [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Hospitals, Idiots in Love, KyouHaba Week, M/M, Minor Injuries, barely beta'd, damn i love that tag, okay lets see
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 17:47:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4796582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenmilliontrinkets/pseuds/tenmilliontrinkets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>senpai are terrible</p>
            </blockquote>





	a million miles away

**Author's Note:**

> this is my contribution to kyouhaba week, day one (hands). beta'd by my bro-in-arms, Sunshine. find her on tumblr (thebookauror).
> 
> yell at me at hajiime.tumblr.com 
> 
> requests are open!

Shigeru isn’t necessarily a bad person. He goes to morning practice. He doesn’t bully the first years, which is more than he can say for his senpai, anyways. It's all entirely uncalled for, he reasons, as he wracks his brain for what on Earth he could’ve done to deserve this. Even Iwaizumi-san, kind, responsible Iwaizumi-san had been in on _whatever the hell_ that has Kyoutani’s large, calloused hand wrapped around his own.

“Are you-” Shigeru coughs, clears his throat, and colors as Kyoutani fixes him with a look far, far too perturbed for Shigeru to finish his sentence, and “ _are you going to let go_ ” turns into “ _please don’t_ ” before Shigeru registers Kyoutani shift his hold, slipping his clumsy fingers in between Shigeru’s instead of just flat against them.

“I think we should go to the hospital, this is starting to burn.” Shigeru manages and tries once more to separate his palm from Kyoutani’s. Kyoutani nods, grimacing, testing the super glue's hold even after the last forty minutes of attempting to pry themselves apart.

“Idiot, pulling on it isn’t going to help.” Kyoutani kicks him.

Shigeru tugs anyways.

“How the fuck did this even _happen_?” Kyoutani curses and mutters something about black magic that makes Shigeru snort.

“Oikawa-san wasn’t even fucking subtle; he offered me _hand-sanitizer_ ,” Kyoutani glares at him. “This is your fault. You high-fived me.”

Shigeru raises his free hand in surrender.

“Iwaizumi-san told me to congratulate you,” he shrugs, “I don’t know what for, you weren’t particularly spectacular today.”

“Fuck off.”

“I would if I could, Mad Dog-chan.”

It’s hard for Kyoutani to cuff him on the back of the head with his unstuck hand and harder for Shigeru to duck away without dragging Kyoutani with him.

 

***

 

He should’ve known that two teenagers super-glued together wouldn’t be the clinic’s first priority, but it’s really starting to burn where their hands are pressed together. Shigeru’s pretty sure the excess warmth is from the glue reacting chemically with their skin and not Kyoutani’s abnormally warm hands. He still flexes his palm against Shigeru’s periodically, subconsciously, eyebrows drawn together and wrinkled right above his nose.

“At least we don’t have to share a chair,” he tries, kicking Kyoutani’s ankle lightly. His counterpart huffs and shoves his shoulder.

“You’re not funny,” Kyoutani doesn’t look at him.

“Guess not,” Shigeru agrees and leans over so he can see Kyoutani’s expression, lips drawn up into what is most certainly not his usual grimace, “but you’re laughing, so either I _am_ funny or you’ve got a shit sense of humor.” Kyoutani does smile at this, a barely-there twitch of his mouth northwards that Shigeru catalogs as something he’d definitely like to see again.

He looks up when a nurse clears her throat, tapping her pen against her clipboard and sporting a raised eyebrow that could probably put Matsukawa-san to shame.

“What seems to be the problem?” Shigeru gestures at their hands, glancing confusedly at Kyoutani when the nurse’s pen taps faster, impatient, and it’s now that he notices the blush high on Kyoutani’s cheeks and how their fingers actually fit together quite nicely and _how this might actually be a lot more comfortable without the super glue searing a hole in the middle of his hand–_

“We’ve got a lot of people here–” the nurse starts, glaring expectantly at Shigeru, and he snaps back to Earth and adamantly attempts to ignore Kyoutani’s hand tightening around his own.

“Right, um, we’re stuck.” Shigeru disentangles his fingers from Kyoutani’s to show the nurse the place where their palms are nearly fused together with some sort of industrial-brand glue.  

The nurse leans forward, inspecting them almost suspiciously as if they’d deliberately glued themselves together to terrorize her, and Shigeru’s close to imploding when she speaks again.

“You really should’ve come up with a better excuse to hold hands,” she deadpans, moving to write on her clipboard. “That’s Hide Glue. It dissolves in water.” Kyoutani drops his head back to fall against his chair. Shigeru wants to cry.

“You two didn’t try washing your hands?” A hint of a grin plays at the corners of her mouth, and he’s almost tempted to laugh as well until he feels Kyoutani drag them upwards and towards the door.

“Thank you!” Shigeru calls, and the nurse waves at them before winking in a way that has his insides threatening to paint the concrete.

 

***

 

The center of his palm feels raw and chafed, the rest of his hand wrinkly from soaking in water until they had successfully pulled themselves apart. Shigeru’s just glad he finally has both thumbs available to “accidentally” curse at his senpai over text.

Kyoutani absently scratches his newly freed skin and kicks at Shigeru’s carpet from his seat at the foot of Shigeru’s bed.

“That shit isn’t even meant for skin,” he mutters, and Shigeru knows that if he laughs now he’ll definitely get hit now that Kyoutani has full control of all his limbs.

“It’s actually meant for wood,” Shigeru sits down next to Kyoutani. “You know, gluing parts of wooden instruments together and delicate things like that.” Kyoutani rolls his eyes.

“I’m not some sort of _brute_.”

“You had me convinced.” Shigeru knows he’s teasing, now.

“I held your hand for an entire fucking hour, didn’t I?” Kyoutani retorts, and the tint of pink is back on his cheeks, matching the color of their palms where they’d been stuck together.

“You _had_ to hold my hand for an hour, dumbass,” Shigeru points out, satisfied when Kyoutani shoves him. It’s the last thing he expects when Kyoutani’s fingers flutter over the sensitive center of his hand and press down, light enough that if Shigeru tried, he could convince himself that he’d imagined it.

A firm weight in the palm of his hand sends that possibility through the window. Kyoutani is staring straight ahead, focused on some vastly interesting spot on the wall near Shigeru’s door, and it takes about two or three more wriggles of Kyoutani’s hand for their fingers to lock together like they were during the better part of the afternoon.

“If only the team could see us.” Shigeru winces as the raw parts of their palms touch but the warmth of Kyoutani’s fingers between his own is almost soothing enough to make him forget.

“Why the fuck,” Kyoutani attempts to wring his hand from Shigeru’s, “why would you bring them up _now_.” Shigeru holds fast and drops his head on Kyoutani’s shoulder when Kyoutani gives in, resting their hands in his lap.

“You think we could superglue Oikawa-san and Iwaizumi-san’s hands together?” Kyoutani taps his knuckles against Shigeru’s.

“I think we could do better.” Shigeru thinks he sees true fear in Kyoutani’s eyes when he grins at him.

 

***

 

The next day isn’t productive as far as practice goes, what with Oikawa’s hand glued to Iwaizumi’s ass for a good part of the morning until Iwaizumi finally gives in and shows his volleyball-patterned boxers to the entirety of Seijou’s boy’s team.

 

 


End file.
